But his frail dust to shroud; for now his Sun
Is set in Death's cold shade, his Race is run;
And O! may Darkness, deep as ancient night,
Close o'er his name, and veil it from the sight!
Vain, fruitless wish! no mighty voice hath said,
"Here, Sea of ruin, shall thy waves be stay'd;"
But still they roll resistless; on the tide
Ensanguin'd Zeal and gaunt Ambition ride.
Byzantium sinks o'erwhelm'd, and fades away
The last faint beam of Latium's brighter day,
While Rome's proud * eagle, he, whose pinions wav'd
O'er Libya's strand, and Thule's tempest brav'd,
With flagging wing, and crest to earth bow'd low,
Indignant dies beneath a Moslem's blow.
Alas for Palestine! her palmy vale,
Her grove of nard that scented every gale,
Her corn-lands thick with sheaves, her chrystal rills, Her flocks that feed upon a thousand hills,
Her Faith-than flocks, and groves, and vales more
All own the triumphs of Medina's spear.
For Afric weep! her rich and radiant store
From Ophir rifled, gem and golden ore;
Her ravag'd lands, that erst so beauteous smil'd,
From Nile's fair bank to Niger's margin wild;
Her Sons, immers'd in Slavery's darkest night,
All tell the ruffian Moslem's conquering might.
But oh! if yet the tide of song may flow
In sadder stream, and murmur deeper woe;
If yet one tear be warm in Pity's urn-
That tear, that song, to wasted India turn!
* Alluding to the removal of the seat of empire from Rome to Constantinople, and the subsequent conquest of that city by the yotaries of Mahomet!
For she was happy once; her citron groves
Sigh'd to the whispers of the purest loves;
Her proud Pagodas, in the First of time,
Saw Science born, and wondrous Lore sublime;
Lovely, she slept, in Cashmere's fairy bow'rs,
Or sat enthron'd on Delhi's strength of towers.
How chang'd the scene! pale Hymen's altar falls,
Th' impure Seraglio rears its prison walls;
Steals o'er the soul the Koran's chilling gloom,
And Science westward bends her parting plume.
But Time speeds on; and tho' th' Impostor's pow'r
Fiercely hath rag'd its dark and dreadful hour;
Tho' rude o'er Afric's sands the whirlwind pass'd,
And Asia rock'd beneath the rolling blast-
Yet Hope, soft-smiling, lifts her seraph form
And points to sun-bright days, beyond the storm !
Hail, sun-bright days! more fair, than was, of old,
Saturnian age, by fabling Fancy told-
Hail, sun-bright days! bring on your radiant train,
Peace, Mercy, Love, resume your halcyon reign;
Bid ancient Lore, and classic Taste refin'd,
Raise the low thought, and harmonize the mind;
While heaven-born Truth, (tho dimm'd, forbid to fade,)
With beam, more strong from Error's transient shade,
Breaks forth unclouded, and on Mecca's night
Pours the full flood of everlasting light.
University College, Oxford.
SEE, fairest of the nymphs, that play
In vernal meadows, blooming May
Comes tripping o'er the plain:
Lo! all the gay, the genial powers
That deck the woods, or tend the flowers,
Compose her smiling train.
See, softer, rosier hues adorn
The glowing cheek of blushing morn,
When first she wakes the light:
Behold! a thousand gentle shades
Attend the evening, o'er the glades,
And glad the sullen night.
What sweets perfume the balmy air!
While Flora bids her glittering care
In all their beauty shine.
See Nature round, beneath, above,
All big with joy, all breathing love
And gratitude divine.
O say! amid these general smiles,
What care corrodes-what joy beguiles
My friend's unsettled soul?
Say, does he join the senseless throng
Of Comus' sons, and raise the song
Around th' empoison'd bowl?
But no! my *** s generous mind,
Adorn'd with native taste, refin'd
By all the powers of art,
Would never basely thus resign,
For all the feverish joys of wine,
The raptures of the heart.
Or does some maiden, heavenly fair,
With rosy cheeks, and auburn hair,
And Love's inviting breast,
At length awaken young Desire,
Set all his glowing soul on fire,
And break his golden rest?
But lo! a thousand maidens, all
Just ready to obey his call,
Display their venal charms,
And trim their locks, and tune their sighs,
And try the force of sparkling eyes,
'And wave their snowy arms!
Thus Spring revives, and Summer glows,
And Beauty smiles, and Nectar flows,
In vain to soothe his soul:
While led by Fancy's playful blaze,
The longing youth deluded strays,
Unblest from pole to pole.
Alas! my friend, how vain to roam,
And seek abroad the joys that home
And home alone bestows:
The beam of mirth that lights the face-
The love that warms the fond embrace-
The bliss that ever grows.
What! tho' the awful pride of Rome
Unequall'd swells the daring dome,
And emulates the skies:
Tho' many a temple's sad remains
Spread o'er Hesperia's storied plains,
In broken pomp
arise:
Tho' o'er Helvetia's magic ground
Rocks swell on rocks confus'd around,
And torrents roar between :
Tho' here a town, and there a farm,
Perch'd on the breezy summit, charm,
And soothe the Sylvan scene:
What! though the Rhine, supreme of floods,
Through castled cliffs, and pendent woods,
And towns renown'd in song:
For ever full-for ever great-
Thro' every age, in equal state,
Majestic rolls along:
Yet say! can Art, with all its toys →
Can Nature's nobler, better joys,
Content the restless mind?
Like morning dreams, the phantoms play,
One fleeting hour-then fade away,
Nor leave a trace behind.
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